Valentine's Day
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: Joan entered the brownstone with every intention of taking a hot bath, binge-watching a TV show on Netflix and eating chocolate ice cream because it was Valentine's Day and one of those times she was painfully aware of just how single she was.


**Valentine's Day**

 **A Sherlock & Joan Story**

 **By Brown Eyes Parker**

 **Rated: K**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **.**

Joan entered the brownstone with every intention of taking a hot bath, binge-watching a TV show on Netflix and eating chocolate ice cream because it was Valentine's Day and one of those times she was painfully aware of just how single she was.

She was _not_ expecting to walk into her favorite film score playing on the radio ( _the Duchess_ ) or to a table set for two, complete with candlelight and non-alcoholic Champagne chilling in an ice bucket.

And she was most certainly _not_ expecting to find her partner struggling with a hand-mixer to whip potatoes while the smells of lemon-garlic chicken and chocolate something filled the air.

"Sherlock, _what on earth are you doing_!?" Joan asked.

The whisks that Sherlock was holding dropped to the counter with a metallic clang. "Joan! What are you doing here!?"

"I live here Sherlock," Joan reminded him. "Remember?"

" _Of course I do!"_ Sherlock answered. "But I wasn't expecting you home for another hour at least!"

"Am I interrupting something? I wouldn't want to intrude on your _date_ , it being Valentine's Day and all."

"Oh please!" Sherlock scoffed, finally succeeding in his attempts to hook up the hand-mixer. "You know that _I_ of all people wouldn't have a _date_ on Valentine's Day!"

"None of your girlfriends were interested?" Joan asked, it was supposed to be a joke but it came out a lot harsher than she had intended for it to.

"They aren't my _girlfriends_!" Sherlock retorted, saying _girlfriends_ like it was a four-letter word. "I certainly wouldn't put this kind of effort in for any of them, anyways."

Joan bit back another biting remark and went to check on the chicken instead since Sherlock was busy ripping through the potatoes with all the precision of a surgeon.

She poked at the golden skin of the chicken with a meat thermometer and then got oven mitts to take them out of the oven. "Well, whoever she is you must like her a lot."

"I like her quite a bit actually," Sherlock replied.

"Well, you wouldn't be making the Proposal dinner if you didn't."

" _P-proposal dinner!"_ Sherlock stuttered. "Joan Watson, what on earth are you implying!?"

"Every women's magazine said if you want your significant other to commit all you need to do is make them roaster chickens and it's a surefire way to get you an engagement ring," Joan explained.

"That's a whole lot of nonsense!" Sherlock declared as he turned off the mixer. "Do you actually know anybody that's done it and succeeded in securing said proposal of marriage?"

"Well. . . _no_ ," Joan admitted. "But I was only telling you about the theory, I wasn't suggesting it actually worked!"

"I'm not fishing for a proposal," Sherlock told her. "And if I _were_ marriage-minded, _I_ would do the proposing. Not the other way around, thank you very much. Come and try the mashed potatoes and tell me if they're to your liking."

Joan got a spoon from the silverware drawer and went to take a taste like Sherlock had requested. She nodded. "They're not lumpy, so that's always a plus," she said. "Sherlock, who are you doing this for? You and I both know you're not the type to celebrate Valentine's Day. You said it's just another holiday that the greeting card industry uses to extract money from unsuspecting victims."

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Sherlock asked. "Really Watson, I am highly doubting your level of skill in detective work right now if you can't solve _the Case of the Valentine's Dinner_ , so to speak."

Joan narrowed her eyes and dropped the spoon in the sink. "I'm going to my room. Don't worry, I won't interrupt you on your date."

"Oh come on Joan, you must know _this_ is all for you!" Sherlock answered.

"For _me_?" Joan repeated, looking at him in astonishment.

"All sorts of love deserve to be celebrated," Sherlock told her.

Joan smiled. "Sherlock are you trying to say you love me?" She was shocked when she realized her partner was blushing, she deflated a little bit, waiting for his answer. "Sherlock?"

"Do I love you?" Sherlock said. "In a fashion, I do. I am not driven mad with desire for you and yet, I don't love you like a brother should love his sister. I don't want to insult you by saying it's a comfortable kind of love though."

"A comfortable kind of love isn't an insult," Joan answered.

"It makes us sound like an old married couple."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Those are some of the best relationships," Joan replied. "And we're not exactly an old married couple. Those sorts of couples don't tend to chase down criminals together."

Sherlock beamed at her. "Joan Watson, I love you."

Joan smiled at him in return. "Sherlock Holmes, I love you too."

"I suppose you'd like me to ask you formly to be my Valentine? It isn't assumed because I made you dinner and told you how I felt?"

"It isn't elementary school," Joan said. "I'm not expecting you to give me an Avenger's Valentine or anything."

"Are your standards really that low?"

"No. But if we were in elementary school today, you could be sure that Avengers and Minons Valentine's would be all the rage."

"You made me sit through the insufferable second Avengers movie, right?"

"Sherlock."

"Right. Well, I don't have any kind of paper Valentine. Avengers or otherwise," Sherlock said. "But I hope you'll be my Valentine anyways."

Joan went over to him and took his hands. "Of course I'll be your Valentine, Sherlock. I'm assuming I don't have to ask if you'll be mine?"

"There isn't anyone else, is there?"

"I could always ask Marcus or Moreland. . . I'm just kidding Sherlock. I don't have a paper Valentine, Taylor Swift or otherwise but I hope you'll overlook _that_ and be my Valentine anyways."

"I will be. Now that we've got that settled, I think it's time to eat. I hope you're hungry Joan."

"I could eat," Joan answered, allowing him to settle her in a chair and serve her dinner.

For the first time in a while, they celebrated Valentine's Day together.

 **The End**

 **.**

 **Author's Note:**

 **I can't even begin to tell you what this is or where it came from. I know Sherlock is not one for sentiment but I couldn't help writing this. It's been in my head since Christmas. I hope you'll tell me what you thought!**

 **Until Next Time!**

 **Lots of Love,**

 **Holly, 2/1/2016_**


End file.
